


The Characteristics of Voldy.pptx

by DragonaireAbsolvare



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Harry is a Little Shit, Humor, I roast it my dudes, M/M, Not Gratuitously Hot Tom Riddle, Professor Tom Riddle, Snake-Like Voldemort (Harry Potter), Twilight References, Twilight Spitefic, no wars, voldemort is fab, voldemort sparkles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:54:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonaireAbsolvare/pseuds/DragonaireAbsolvare
Summary: "I know what you are.""Say it.""Voldemort."There's something off about the new Defence Professor.-----------------This is the Twilight-roasting Harrymort crackfic that no one asked for, but everyone deserves, which is also ‘n’ times better than the original shit, so pls give me love. (n being an arbitary number- or fraction- that you can decide on)
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	The Characteristics of Voldy.pptx

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TolypeVelleda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TolypeVelleda/gifts).



> In response to a series of headcannons on Discord that Voldemort would be covered in scales.  
> The abovementioned quote was the starting point, offered up by [TolypeVelleda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TolypeVelleda) to whom I owe the existence of this fic.

Harry knew there was something wrong with the new Defence professor. For one, he had covered himself head-to-toe in gloves and long, high-necked robes, with a large sunhat, sunglasses and scarf.

 _Indoors._ Who did that? (This was not a 1960’s movie for Merlin’s sake!)

And the fact that Harry had seen him atop the Astronomy tower during a Quidditch match, and yet he had been able to catch Harry when he fell from his broom. The storm had blown his Nimbus into the Whomping Willow, and apparently Professor Riddle had carried him into the hospital wing.

All Harry remembered was being cradled against a strong, sinewy chest.

He’d been caught staring at Riddle one times too many by his housemates, and now it was a silly rumour around Gryffindors (and Slytherins, naturally. The sneaky bastards often spied and eavesdropped on them) that Harry had was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Riddle.

Riddle had stared at Harry’s new Firebolt with a very smug air (nothing could be seen through the scarf and the veil, but there was no doubt the bastard was radiating smugness.

“About time, Potter. That artefact was slowing you down.”

Harry glared. He had loved his Nimbus; it had been like a prosthetic custom-built for him. But then the Firebolt felt like an extension of his own body, so there was that...

Riddle snorted.

Harry gaped. “Did you just read my mind?”

The professor just turned away, sashaying back to his tower.

“You did! You bastard Legilimens, that’s illegal!”

Riddle stopped, tilting his face slightly to glance at him sideways. “Mind what you call me, Potter. I’m a very dangerous man.”

That didn’t change the fact that Legilimency was strictly regulated by the Ministry, just like Veritaserum, but it sure got him thinking.

That wasn’t all.

Harry had often seen the bastard sneak off to the Forbidden Forest, and Hagrid had perpetual wrinkles on his face this year- something had been killing the unicorns. It was not hard to put two and two together, but Harry was also known to be a pathological liar (he wasn’t; he’d seen shit that no one would ever believe in) so it was not like he could expose Professor Riddle without proof.

Well, there was one proof- Riddle never ate in the Great Hall.

And there was the hissing.

He’d been thoroughly disturbed to see Riddle getting petting a giant magical python and crooning lovingly. And the snake kept _hissing back._

There were very few known Parselmouths in Britain; Slytherin’s bloodline was one. There was also the story about the Heir of Slytherin, who would come back to wipe out the entire population of Muggleborns.

Harry shuddered and wrapped the Invisibility cloak tighter around himself.

He returned to the common room late that night. Hermione elbowed him with a knowing smirk, while Ron extracted his lips from Lavender’s mouth to wolf-whistle.

“So, how’d it go?” Hermione asked.

Harry stared dumbly. “How’d what go?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Spying on Riddle, you git. Did you see his bad, sexy body or what?”

Harry sputtered. “I- what-?” He extricated himself from his friends’ grasp. “No, I wasn’t spying on Riddle!”

But he _had been._ And since Harry was just as bad a liar as he was at Potions, they easily saw through it. Hermione patted his arm sympathetically, while Ron pulled himself free once more.

“It’s alright, mate. We know your condition keeps you from admitting things even if it’s already canon, but we just want you to know that you have our full support and blessings.”

This was stupid.

Harry was being stupid. There was no way Hermione’s stupid probing and poking could have invoked visions of Riddle’s hot and sexy body in his head. Nope, it wasn’t haunting him in his sleep.

Besides, Riddle was probably ugly as fuck, which was why he needed to veil himself up like some bridal display.

Right.

And the only reason Harry was crouching in luxurious bathroom, having broken into the professor’s private quarters not so long ago, was to prove Hermione wrong.

God, he had been _so wrong._

Harry stared, gaping at the slender figure in the bath, impossibly long and white, like the colour of bone china, with delicate, spindly claws (fingers, Harry told himself, they were fingers. People simply could _not_ have claws) stained with silvery blood.

Riddle shifted in the bath- he had a dimpled arse, and what a fine arse it was- and Harry couldn’t help but let out a little sound between a whimper and a moan. Riddle turned and darted out of the bath, brandishing his wand.

Harry sat deathly still under the cloak, not daring to breathe or open his eyes until he could hear Riddle’s footsteps heading out into the bedroom.

Professor Riddle had _red eyes._

There was no doubt about it; they had glowed crimson and flashed dangerously- the glimpse Harry had caught in the bathroom was enough. Riddle had red eyes.

Who the hell had red eyes?

 _Dark wizards,_ apparently.

He had enlisted Hermione’s help in researching eye colour under false pretences, (no, Harry was _not_ a pathological liar, he was only hiding the information because Hermione would freak out and complain to Dumbledore.) and it seemed only the darkest of magic that corrupted the soul could change the colour of someone’s eyes to red.

Dumbledore mustn’t ever know.

If he did, the board of Governors would be persuaded to sack Riddle; the only decent Defence Master Hogwarts had seen in years, not to mention that Harry wouldn’t get a chance to see that utterly delectable body ever again.

He absolutely wouldn’t let Dumbledore find out.

Had Harry mentioned he’d seen things no man should ever see?

The manticore in the Forbidden Forest was one.

There wasn’t supposed to be a manticore there, in the first place!

He was sneaking in, hoping to catch Riddle in the act, when a gigantic sting slashed his leg. Harry screamed and began throwing spells left and right, but there was a good reason why manticores were Class XXXXX beasts; the spells bounced off its hide while a low croon emerged from its very human throat, paws braced on Harry’s sides and ready to maul.

“Fragorate Annihilus!”

A curse targeted at the manticore’s underbelly exploded with perfection, getting it off Harry without harming him.

The beast turned to glare at its attacker with feral, glowing eyes, and Riddle began casting rapidly, overpowering the manticore with sheer brute strength. His spells wrecked the surroundings, uprooting trees and reducing the ground to dust. Footing lost, the manticore flailed about, and the Defence professor seized the chance to transfigure a trunk into a large blade to spear the creature’s mouth open.

Thus rendered vulnerable, he shot an overpowered Killing Curse into its gullet and didn’t move until the beast had flopped onto its side, quite dead.

Harry found himself pressed against a familiar, cold chest splattered with silvery blood as he began to drift into a haze. Riddle must have done it on purpose; his last conscious thought was that they were flying to the Astronomy tower...

It was a whole month before Riddle let Harry off detention at last.

And he was free to stalk the Professor again. (Not that detention had been bad; but there were limits to what misdeeds a dark wizard could do when supervising cleaning duty.)

They were back in the Forbidden Forest, Harry having wisely cast a lightening charm on his feet and covered himself properly with the Invisibility cloak. It was sunny again, spring having thawed the earth and burst life into the brambles, and it was into this idyllic lakeside scene that Harry traipsed into.

Riddle stood on a rock by the lake, black robes and scarf and veil billowing like a Dementor in the sunlight. And then slowly, he began to strip.

First fell the thick heavy robes, then the hat and the scarf, and then the gloves and another layer of robes... until he was bare in the sun, breath-taking in his scintillating glory, covered in hundreds and thousands of iridescent scales that glittered like diamonds in the light and set off little reflections everywhere- in the sand, in the water, the trees and the ferns.

The professor settled comfortably on the rock to sunbathe, and promptly noticed Harry. He froze for a moment. The wizard, if he could be called one, looked almost serpentine- he had neither nose nor eyebrows nor hair, his eyes gleaming a malevolent red and lipless mouth curled in a snarl.

“Harry Potter... so you see.” He began slowly, getting to his feet unabashedly. “This is who I am.” He sauntered close, reeking danger and making the skin on the back of Harry’s neck prickle.

“You’re beautiful.” The boy replied dazedly.

Riddle narrowed his eyes. “Beautiful?”

Harry took a step back, and another, as Riddle neared him.

 _“Beautiful?_ Bitch, I’m _fabulous!”_

Harry found his back pressed against a tree, and he could back away no further. Riddle towered over him, wand twirling idly between his fingers.

“What are you playing at, Harry?” He asked angrily, circling Harry like a predator.

Harry flushed, made all the more aware of their proximity by the lack of warmth. He had drawn a fair few conclusions from comparing his observations with historical excerpts and anecdotes. The boy took a deep breath, and began.

“You- you can fly. Without wings or a broom.” Harry said.

Riddle rolled his eyes. “Clearly, that’s the first thing your Quidditch-centered teenage brain noticed.”

“You’re incredibly powerful. Your skin is pale, scaled and cold. You’re a Parselmouth. Your eyes are red- and I _do_ know what that means! I’m _lazy,_ not stupid!”

The professor shrugged. “I stand corrected.”

“You’re the one killing unicorns every week.”

“Every week and half, Potter. Do keep up. My metabolism is rather slow.”

“By the way, do you know that’s actually cursed blood?”

Riddle turned to Harry and grinned nastily. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“Jeez, okay! I was just warning you, you Merlin-damned psychopath. Where was I?”

“I drink cursed blood.”

“Oh, right.” Harry fumbled mentally for his list and cleared his throat. “You can read minds. And you don’t go out in sunlight.” Riddle gestured grandly at his still-sparkling body and Harry nodded knowingly. “So, er, how old are you?”

“... That’s not a very polite question.”

Harry stared pointedly, broadcasting his thoughts about Riddle being old as fuck.

“Seventy one.” He gritted out.

“Circe’s tits, you’re _ancient!”_ Harry tittered, covering his mouth and giving the angry snakeman a once-over. “I-“ He gasped out between choking laughter (it wasn’t really that funny, but it made Riddle angry and embarrassed, so he was going to milk it for all its worth) “I know what you are.”

“Say it.” The wizard hissed, looming two heads over Harry. “Out loud.”

“Voldemort.”

That’s right, Riddle was Britain’s reigning Big Bad Dark Lord™, and here he was, naked, fuming and undignified in front of a horny seventeen year-old. He suddenly felt very self-conscious. “Are you afraid?”

“Hardly.” Harry laughed again and waved his hands amiably. “You’re not the first dangerous creature I’ve run into.” And then accused, “Which you would know if one of you professors had actually paid attention instead of labelling me a pathological liar.”

Voldemort wanted to point out that Potter was indeed a nasty little liar, but the boy interrupted him.

“I’ve just got one question. Uh, did any one of your parents fuck a snake?”

“What- No!”

Crack!

Before they knew it, the duo was surrounded by shabby, unkempt people- Snatchers, Harry recognised from the Wanted posters. It seemed Riddle had chosen to bathe outside Hogwarts’ wards- which was why the Taboo had been activated.

“Throw down your wands and kneel!” A Snatcher cried, and the group pointed their wands at Voldemort.

Harry quickly complied.

“You too.” The Snatcher said, sneering at the naked Dark Lord. Harry snorted loudly.

“You imbecile-”

“He’s unarmed.” Harry called out to the Snatcher, and they were promptly Stunned and carted off to the Dark Headquarters.

All the while, Riddle kept struggling at his steel binds. Their Stunners had partially failed on him, his scales having all the magical properties of dragon scales, and Harry woke up to the very amusing scene of Riddle being weighed for sale in the exotic beast black-market.

It was only after a full twenty-four hours, when one of the Inner Circle members turned up, that the Dark Lord and his companion were freed. The Snatchers were Crucio-ed intensively; Harry was introduced to few of the HQ’s regulars, and with incessant persuasion, coercion and blackmailing, Lord Voldemort had agreed to start a relationship with Harry (after he graduated, Riddle told him seriously. The professor wasn’t willing to risk his teaching career over charges on sexual misconduct with a student) and all was well.

Except the part where he had to face the combined wraths of Black and the Potters for seducing Harry instead of teaching him, and when he tried to point out that no, _Harry_ had threatened _him_ with a public sunning in the middle of Diagon Alley, nobody listened.

Stupid, stubborn Gryffindors.

FIN.

**Author's Note:**

> Voldemort in a shawl and hat: Use this reference  
>  **Veil Hat:**  
>   
>  **Scarf and glasses**  
> 
> 
> _"Bitch, I'm fabulous!!!_
> 
> Bath scene inspired from [this art](https://itsevanffs.tumblr.com/post/620381749141258240/the-blood-never-truly-washes-off-by-this-time>this%20art</a>%20by%20<a%20href=) by [Dutch (Itsevanffs)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsevanffs)  
> 
> 
> Come join my [Lucarry Server!](https://discord.gg/d7TwVCMzJS)  
> (Probably a bad idea putting a Harry/Lucius Malfoy ship link under a Tomarry fic, but hey, one can be optimistic!)


End file.
